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Joined: Aug 2006
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Location: middle of nowhere, pa, usa
Karma: 100 |  | MIDNIGHT RIDGE (ghosts-romantic suspense)
« Thread Started on Dec 5, 2008, 5:09am » | ![[Quote]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/quote.gif) |
Nothing but Ash
A Midnight Ridge novella
by L. Shannon
Release: TBA
Liquid Silver Books
Blurb
Owen’s life is in shambles. His wife is missing and presumed dead. His daughter is running wild and considered the worst criminal in their small town. The Sheriff, his former girlfriend, expects him to get his act together and “find his balls” as she puts it. It couldn’t get any worse. Until his wife’s ghost shows up, determined to lead them to her killer, a wolf hiding among the sheep, picking them off bad seed at a time...
EXCERPT
Erin watched Owen walk across the street. The sun was well down now, and the streetlights, all three of them, lit up their separate little circles of light. Owen looked like a man on the way to the gallows. Could he move any slower? Did he really dread their talk that much?
“Here’s your beer, Sheriff.” Barry slid a Coors to rest before her.
No matter how many times she reminded him to call her Erin, her uncle always called her Sheriff, even at family gatherings. Anymore she just accepted his stubborn streak and let it go. Of course, being called Sheriff while waiting for a date in a bar put a bit of a damper on the situation, which was probably Uncle Barry’s intention. She took a draw on the beer. If life were only that simple... She’d been waiting for Owen in this bar since they’d both turned legal the same week. And dang if she wasn’t still here waiting for him more than a decade later.
The door swung wide and then shut with a soft clunk. Owen slid onto the stool next to her. Without a request, Uncle Barry filled a shot with Wild Turkey and then slid a bottle of beer in front of Owen too. How long had he been drinking shots? Did he do just one? More? Shit, she’d thought he was doing a little bit better lately, but maybe she’d been wrong, or just too blind to notice.
“Don’t look so worried.” Owen downed the shot.
“How can I not be?”
He shook his head. His blond hair was a little longer than usual.
“She’s fine. It’s just her way of coping.”
“Looked more like a symptom to me. Either drugs or mental health, take your pick. Just don’t ignore it. You should probably be home with her or better yet, taking her down to Black Mountain ER for a drug test.”
“It’s not drugs. She’s just upset this time of year.”
This time of year…with the leaves changing to colorful hues, and the brisk air that was starting to get a bite to it…this time of year when Cindy had left them. “Owen, we’re all upset. You aren’t the only one who lost her.” Erin swallowed down a couple chugs of beer and ignored Uncle Barry’s frown. “She was my best friend, Owen. You know damn well we were as close as sisters. Tomorrow will be hard for me, too.”
The breath blew out of him. His big frame sagged. “Two years.”
Erin nodded. “Two years.”
“She’s not coming back.”
She caught his hand in hers. “No, Owen. She’s not coming back.”
His fingers lay limp for a moment before tightening over hers. “It’d be easier if--”
If they knew what had happened? If they had a body to bury? If they’d been able to say goodbye? If Cindy hadn’t gone out that evening? Too many ifs and not one single answer. “It is what it is.”
“Yeah.” His hand stayed in hers. The light pressure reminded her of days long gone, when they’d been high school sweethearts and had touched every time they’d gotten within reach of each other.
The innocent comfort reminded her of things she shouldn’t be thinking about while they talked about his dead wife and messed-up kid. But how could she forget that summer before she left for the academy, how they’d all gone skinny-dipping in the Miller pond and how the two of them had stayed after Cindy and Henry had left. How they’d held hands in the moonlight for hours and talked about how nothing would change. But everything changed. Cindy had gotten pregnant and Erin had returned just in time for the wedding.
After some time had passed, she stopped blaming him. Cindy had been wonderful, beautiful inside and out. Any man could have fallen in love with her. Erin just wished it hadn’t been Owen.
His fingers tightened once more, sliding between hers, before moving their hands from the oh-so-visible countertop to rest on his thigh.
“About Sienna...”
His voice turned grim. “It’s not drugs. I know she has problems, but she’s not using anything. After ... after that one time she won’t even touch aspirin.”
Overdosing on sleeping pills was now considered “that one time”? It had been an ugly several weeks with Sienna recovering and getting her head shrunk down at Black Mountain.
“Really, Erin. Sienna’s clean. She’s not using drugs.”
She let go of his fisted hand. This discussion was too important to cloud up with her own emotions. “Then how do you explain what she said? I haven’t even told you why I dragged her in this time.”
“What did she do, park John’s riding mower in the creek again?”
“Owen. This is serious.”
“Okay, seriously then, what did she do?”
How could she explain it? The words wouldn’t come. There was only one way to get through to him. “Come on. I‘ll show you.” She captured his hand again, using it to drag him from the stool. “We’ll be back.”
Uncle Barry mumbled something, but she didn’t ask what; just continued to lead Owen’s less and less willing body out onto the street.
His mind and body might not want to face the truth, but his fingers wove in hers, tangling them together in something more than the leash she’d intended. “It’s late, Erin. Do we have to do this now?”
“Yes, you have to see this now because I’m having the tower repainted tomorrow. Already asked Bobbie Jo Hanson to do it. You will be billed, just so you know.”
“The tower? The water tower? What could be so bad, did she paint dirty pictures up there or what?” His laugh was halfhearted. Maybe he was finally getting the idea that this wasn’t a joke. Seeing Sienna’s “art” would surely drive the point home.
The tower was two buildings down from his store, so the walk was short. In minutes she had him facing the large structure from across the street. Only then did she realize he’d never see the real horror in the dark. “Come on. You and I are going up there to see your daughter’s art right now.”
She could see his objections swelling to the surface but they wisely remained unspoken.
She kept his hand in hers all the way to the ladder. She wasn’t about to let him balk. Besides, the feel of his strength in hers felt ... right. Even with everything they were dealing with. When she stopped, he bumped into her. The soft collision awoke something deeper inside her that she immediately tamped down. But with his mouth only inches above hers, the pause heated the air between them for a long moment before she dropped his hand and stepped back.
He went first and she followed him all the way up the ladder. Her light cut through the darkness, making the climb safe and swift. Too swift. Soon she would make him see a glimpse of what his daughter was dealing with. The images had scared her. What would it mean to a father?
“Now what do you want me to see?”
Without a word, she raised the light and began revealing the bizarre graffiti covering the tower walls. Dead people, with crude x-marks for eyes and fire in blazes of red behind the other images and in some cases over them. The worst part were the words painted all over, filling in spaces between images as if the art had failed Sienna and only the words could explain the rough pictures. Terror. Pain. Fear. Hate. Violence. Death.
“Oh my God.” Owen said on a quiet breath.
“Yeah.”
“Sienna did this?” His hand hovered over a rough, but obvious, portrayal of a woman being burned alive.
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“I caught her here three hours ago with the spray cans in her hands.”
He stared at the ugly pictures for several minutes. One hand rose, fingers brushing over a fiery image. “I--” He cleared his throat. “I need to go home.”
She backed up to the ladder. “I’ll go with you.” Backing down the ladder, she kept the light high enough to help him too.
“I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I should have seen it.”
But how could he have seen this coming? Sure Sienna had problems, but there’d been no hint of the situation being this awful, this out there.
“You couldn’t have known.”
Owen was quiet to the bottom rung. “What can I do?”
He sounded so lost. She put her arm around him and walked with him back toward the store. “I don’t know, but you are not in this alone.” The moment the words came out, she felt silly. Of course he wasn’t alone. His parents still lived just down the road and Cindy’s mother lived in the house next to her own. It was nearly impossible to be alone in a small town like Midnight Ridge.
His arm tightened around her, before he released her and stepped back.
Around the side and up to his place, she let him hold the silence until they were at Sienna’s bedroom door. “Do you have a plan?”
“No.” He pushed open the door, revealing Sienna sound asleep, hand tucked over her fuzzy black journal.
The girl’s face was lit with a gentle smile and look of contentment she’d not been seen wearing in two years. It wasn’t the expression of a child on the edge of a breakdown. It was peaceful.
Owen eased the door closed. “She looks ... happy.”
“I don’t understand it. She’s like a different child now. How could someone who painted those things look so innocent?”
“Like an angel.”
“Yeah.” She shook her head but let him guide her back out to the living room. “Now what?”
He sank onto the sofa and tugged her down beside him. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Might set up another round with her doctor.”
“I’ll help with whatever you need.”
“You always do.” He leaned back, but his gaze turned her way and softened. “Why is that, Erin? Why are you always there when I need you?”
Heat flushed to her cheeks. “You know why.” Her feelings had never been a secret, she still loved him, had never stopped loving him. She and Cindy had even talked about it a few times, although in the end it’d been one of those things better off being ignored.
He pulled her closer, tight against the heat of his body. His lips came down and caught hers, parting on a surprised gasp. While she was too stunned to react, he deepened the kiss just past platonic. Gently moving, the caress over her lips awoke a fierce need, one she’d held in check for a long time.
She leaned into the contact, welcoming hope back into her heart.
But before she could dream of wedding bells and matching rings he pulled back, not exactly a full retreat, but fast enough to make it obvious he wasn’t yet ready, if he ever would be.
Sighing, Erin swallowed back her disappointment. “I’d better be going.” She stood and missed the warmth of his body and the slow heat of his kiss. It was time for her own retreat before he realized how much she wanted him.
Too late. His hand tightened, holding her still. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” Letting go of his hand took more effort than she was capable of, so she held onto that small touch all the way to the door. “I’ll square with Uncle Barry. You just watch over Sienna. And if you need to talk--”
“I’ll call.”
END EXCERPT
Coming 4/20/09 to Liquid Silver Books!
Shannon
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
L.Shannon ~ http://lshannon.net ~ Dark Paranormal Romance
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Find more L. Shannon books at Amber Quill Press, Changeling Press, Cobblestone Press, Liquid Silver Books & Noble Romance
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